Slowly But Surely, Darling, I'm On My Way To Believing In Us
by PandoraTheFox
Summary: Castiel is just fine with being unnoticed for the rest of his life. But then the Winchesters come to town and Dean crashes into his life. He tries to ignore him but because of Dean's odd fixation on him, he can't get rid of him...and soon he finds himself not minding his company anymore. But upon discovering Dean's family business, Cas fears they're here for him and his abilities.
1. Okay With Remaining In The Shadows

**Author's Note: This is my second Destiel fic and since I've gotten so many compliments on the first, I thought about making another one. I toyed with this idea for some time now but it wasn't until recently did I finally force myself to sit down and write it all down for everyone to see. Hopefully, my efforts didn't go to waste. ****But anyway, onward to reading this SPN fic while trying to deal with the withdraws of new episodes because of this forever-like hiatus like the obsessive fans we know we all are (though I wouldn't use such an ugly word like "obsessive." It's more like...heavily devoted)!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters for they belong to Eric Kripke and their other respectable owners. The only thing I'm taking credit for is writing this story. **

* * *

Castiel James Shurley's only goal in life is to remain completely invisible to the rest of the world. Sure, most boys his age do just about _anything_ to attract attention, but Castiel isn't a fool. He knows that when you get noticed, then you become known to everyone, and when you become known to everyone, you ultimately become targeted by someone who will be willing to do just about anything to take you down. He's seen it happen countless of times in his fantasy novels and it always begins when the hero had just gotten acknowledged by the rest of the world. But unlike Castiel, the hero actually wants the attention; craves it even. But the hero's popularity with most people always make him an enemy and threat to others, and that's usually where all the trouble begins.

No, Castiel is perfectly alright with hiding away in the shadows; actually, he prefers it that way. Because when he does get noticed, he always ends up panicking and messing everything up. Castiel doesn't operate well under pressure or any type of recognition whatsoever. Though he doesn't see the point in socializing either, which is quite possibly why he doesn't have any peers to call anything but a dreaded acquaintance and has remained alone for the whole seventeen years of his existence. But that doesn't bother him as much as he knows it should. Some might say that he's lonely and desperate for a friend, but Castiel doesn't see it that way. He thinks of it as a gain because without friends, you won't have to risk the chance of getting burned by the ones you once held dear to your heart.

He learned that lesson early in life when his mother went and abandoned him and her whole family the day Castiel turned six. She used to be the apple of Castiel's eye since she was only person that didn't treat him like he was nothing but a pest and had actually appeared like she honestly enjoyed his company. She wasn't like his two brothers, Michael and Lucifer, who locked him in closets for hours and ripped his loaned library books apart and made it their goal to point out that his very existence didn't even matter. She wasn't like Castiel's father that didn't even come home days on end and who acted like it was such a chore to spend time with his actual family than working eighteen hours a day. His mother wasn't like his classmates that whispered loudly about him every time he walked by and who constantly pushed him into muddy puddles every time he approached them hoping to make friends like his mother always instructed him to do.

He thought his mother loved him, but Castiel was proven wrong when he woke up the morning of his birthday only to find a sealed envelope resting on top of his night stand. He was delighted to see that it was from his mother and opened it up gleefully, only to find a birthday card that had his favorite constellation on it while the title read in big letters "Have A Party That's Out Of This World." It wasn't until he read the long drawn out letter his mother had wrote on the inside of the card that carefully explained that she couldn't stand in there anymore and how she had left and was never coming back and how much it hurt her to leave him behind did he realize that today wasn't the time to be merry.

Castiel didn't believe it at first. Of course, like any other kid that just lost a parent and the only friend he's ever truly had, he was in full-fledged denial. It wasn't until the twentieth day of her disappearance when he showed the card to his father did Castiel fully grasp the horrible reality that his mother was never coming back. Castiel was hoping that his father would read it and then devote everything he had to find her and apologize and just _beg_ her to come home, but all thoughts of that were banished from Castiel's mind when his father tore the card to shreds and threw it into the wastebasket.

His father spent even less time at home after that; if that was even possible, that is. Castiel doesn't know why, but he always had the feeling that his father resented him after that day. He could practically feel the loathing hatred every time he gazed at him. He supposes that he didn't like how Castiel's mother seemed to love her youngest child more than she even loved her own husband.

From then on, Castiel didn't celebrate his birthdays; seriously, why should he rejoice the day his mother abandoned him and left him feeling absolutely detached from the rest of the world? It's pointless really. All it does is make him sad—come to think of it, it's the one day of the year that made Castiel actually felt any sort of emotion coursing through his numb veins and into his cold, closed off heart.

And that's how he spent the rest of his life up until the Winchester moved into town and Dean Winchester tore down his many walls and became the first one in a_ long_ time to actually have a full grasp on Castiel's heart…before he threw it on the ground and stomped on it, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.

But Castiel was getting ahead of himself. Let's start at the beginning when he had first laid eyes on the green eyed hunter-in-training who was taught that love was a forbidden luxury that only normal people had.

Though that was what Castiel was not: normal. But he'll get to that later.

* * *

**Author's Note: So this is more like a preface really just to give you a little background information on Castiel and a bit of foreshadowing (because you know everyone loves that) of the future to _draw you in_. Did it work? Are you hooked? If so, please give me some feedback for this so I know if you enjoy it so far or not.**** Next update is going to be when the two finally meet and I'll hopefully get it posted in less than a week or two (but please don't hold me to that. I'm a dreadful procrastinator when I choose to be). **

**But seriously, reviews are greatly appreciated. Every letter you type sends me over the moon with happiness.**


	2. Theoretical Love At First Sight

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the nice feedback! And just because of those nice words you guys have typed for me, motivation and inspiration struck and I was able to get this chapter out earlier than I had originally planned. And just a little piece of information to clear up any future confusion: This story takes place in 1997 since that was when Dean was actually eighteen and this is kinda a pre-series story (but it's still an AU since most the angels are actually humans in this). Mistakes are all mine butI'll probably go back tomorrow maybe to fix any of the obvious errors (I would now but I'm so freaking exhausted it's not even funny). Sorry, enough of my complaining and just get onto reading!**

* * *

Believe it or not, love at first sight actually does exist…well, at least scientifically, that is.

Research has proven that human's brains are specially wired to be able to make decision rather quickly whether they are trying to determine to either fight or flight, deciding if a certain person is a friend or foe, or even if a specific individual is a potential choice of a mate. Actually, it only takes three minutes for you to decide if you wish to pursue a person further as a dating option. Even if only eleven percent of people say their long-term relationship started at "hello," it still give most people hope that the first person they laid eyes on are actually "the one." Castiel believes the idea in theory, but he finds it impossible to actually love someone at first sight when love itself doesn't even exist.

In Castiel's mind, "love" is simply just a preferred companionship between two homosapians that eventually leads them to contributing to the human population by having sexual intercourse and creating a new addition to humanity. But his own theory of the truth of romance is often rejected just because of the desperate fools that have actually convinced themselves that the idea of "soul-mates" is correct. And when he hears them spout out terrible explanations and examples that their claim is true, Castiel tries his absolute hardest not to roll his eyes and instead just condescend only in his mind and not in his actual words.

He already learned to put a filter on his mouth after Zachariah Seraphim gave him a bloody nose in the third grade when Castiel so innocently explained to him that the only reason Zach saw him as a freak was simply because he was far more intelligent than him and he acted like and unevolved creature would by attempting to take out the biggest threat.

But anyway, like he was saying, Castiel believes that the so called "love at first sight" does have a possibility of existing. And when he first laid eyes on Dean Winchester…well, let's just say love at first sight didn't exactly occur.

* * *

Every Saturday, Castiel Shurley would wake up at exactly ten o'clock in the morning and walk himself down to the local grocery store to purchase an eight ounce Sprite and strolled into the forest at the outskirts of town to enjoy the next two hours admiring the beauty of nature while not a single soul could disturb him. It's mostly likely the only thing he ever looks forward to anymore.

At school, he's stuck in a closed off area full of ignorant fools that forget Castiel's name just seconds after meeting him (saying his generation has the memory and mind capacity of a goldfish would be an insult to the aquatic animal). At home, he's stuck in a desolate prison that absolutely none of the other residence want to be around him. But in the woods, there is no one to call him vulgar slurs or throw paper wads at his head or just acknowledge his existence whatsoever.

And to him, that's paradise.

This crisp Saturday morning was no different as Castiel does his usual routine of brushing his teeth and getting dressed in his average attire (which consisted of a worn-out suit that used to belong to Michael and his father's dirty tan trench coat that is at least five sizes too big for him) before quietly creeping down the stairs, being extra careful not to disturb his sleeping brothers.

Castiel doesn't exactly despise Michael and Lucifer; he just becomes slightly annoyed and utterly exhausted by their many cruel taunts and harsh physical altercations. None of them had ever made him angry though, of course; he refuses to allow himself to feel such a violent and irrational emotion that will not help the situation but instead just cloud his better judgment. Their "jokes" have just become so tedious over the years that Castiel can't even bring himself to care anymore.

He found his twenty-two year old brother passed out on the living room couch with over a dozen crushed empty beer can surrounding him, making Castiel positive that Lucifer won't be waking up any time soon. And when he does return to the land of the living…well, let's just say Castiel'll make sure to stay out of the house even more today unless he wants to endure Lucifer's dreaded hangover reign of terror. Not that he minds being forced to stay outside more today though; actually, the thought of having the perfect excuse to spend even more time tucked away in the safe burrow of trees almost brought a smile to the always sullen boy's face.

Almost.

When Castiel takes a peek out the window, he notices that Michael's sparkling blue Prius isn't in the driveway. Upon this discovery, he lets out a slight exhale, relieved that he won't be forced to associate with neither of his cruel and menacing siblings that love to treat him as more of an insignificant slave than an innocent little brother.

As he slips pass the front door and shuts it behind him, Castiel doesn't think much of today since he believes it to be just the usual humdrum of his life that was like an endless circle that kept beginning all over again from the second he wakes up to the minute he closes his eyes at night trying to pretend he doesn't feel the aching loneliness that fills his stony heart.

He turns out to be wrong though when Dean Winchester and that stupid black automobile of his almost cause Castiel's death by manslaughter.

* * *

Let it be known that this is not at all Castiel's fault. The seventeen year old takes all safety precautions before crossing the deserted street, even looking both ways _twice _before even setting foot on the cracked road. It isn't _his _fault that a sleek black Impala is barreling down the road twenty miles over the speed limit and is heading directly at him at lightning speed without even looking to slow down any time soon.

Castiel's so preoccupied with his thoughts, he only notices the car coming straight toward when he hears the deafening music of the Impala's stereo that almost made Castiel's ears want to bleed. As soon as his head jerks in the direction of the noise and he finally realizes that the car has no intention of stopping, all logical sense of his brain magically ceases to exist as the only thing he thinks to do is stand there dumbly staring straight in the headlights like a frightened deer.

Luckily, before he becomes road kill like the flattened raccoon he saw on Main Street, the car slams on its breaks just at the last second, making the wheels screech harshly against the strong friction of the road until it finals skits to a stop just a mere inches from Castiel.

A breath of relief escapes his lips as the overwhelming sense of ease floods his entire body. Though the feeling doesn't last long since the Impala switches off the next second and out comes an unfamiliar man that looks just about murderous when his eyes fall upon Castiel.

But as the man advances closer, Castiel discovers that the man isn't a man at all but instead just a boy that looks around his own age. True, he's much taller and broader than Castiel is, but his youth is revealed once he gets a real close up look at the boy's perfectly angular face.

The boy has on a plain black plaid shirt and an old crusted leather jacket that looks a size or two too big as it hangs slightly loose on his average teenage frame. His hair is either the color of light brown or dark blonde (Castiel isn't for sure which since the sunbeams that are shining down on him are causing his hair to be lighter than it most likely is) and is styled upwards in such a neat fashion that it looks like he should be in one of those hair styling magazines (unlike Castiel's ruffled mess of dirty black hair that looks as if he had just rolled out of bed…which is actually highly accurate to say).

But the male's most striking feature isn't noticed by Castiel until the boy gets right in front of him and starts shouting so many obscene vulgarity at him that Castiel is forced to tune him out as he focuses solely on the male's glowing emerald eyes. _Glowing, _Castiel thinks to himself as he tilts his head to the side, _or is it glowering?_

"…_HEY, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?_" The boy demands in an angry growl, snapping Castiel out of his train of thought and back into reality.

Castiel shrugs casually and sighs, "No, but I'm sure I've got the gist: worried about the state of your precious vehicle, furious that I almost chipped the paint while you attempted to mow me down, putting all the blame on the innocent bystander just trying to get around town without worrying about reckless drivers almost murdering them…" He trails off and pauses for a moment before feeling compelled to say, "I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for the concern."

"Hey, my car didn't even touch you, Man," The boy points out with a scowl etched onto his slim square jaw, "If you're claimin' to be messed up, it ain't because of me."

"I'm perfectly alright in a physical sense," Castiel agrees honestly before adding, "However, I might acquire some damage to my mental state in result of your carelessness."

"I think that damage was there _way _before we met, Dude." The boy mumbles under his breath to himself but Castiel still hears it clear as day.

Despite feeling a certain burning sensation flood his stomach and the strange urge to punch the anger right off the boy's face (which startles Castiel more than normal since not even his brothers can get him riled up so easily), Castiel chooses to ignore the boy's rude statement and just continue, "You do realize that most life-threatening experiences cause many people to develop Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I mean, who's to say I won't have a mental breakdown every time a car passes by me now because of you?"

The boy shot him a venomous glare, "You think you're funny, don't you?"

Castiel furrows his brow at his off the wall question before shaking his head slowly and saying, "Of course not. I believe humor is for the ridiculous." Apparently, he said something amusing since the boy's lips twitches as if he's trying to hold back a smile.

They stare hard at each other for a long time after that, as if mentally daring one another to say something first. Though the boy appears that he's becoming more impatient and uncomfortable by the second, Castiel doesn't even feel the slightest awkward at all as his heated stare intensifies, though it's more subconsciously than it is intentional.

Castiel has always been the child with the staring problem all his life. His brothers used to make fun of him for it while his mother was gentler about the subject, often reassuring Castiel that he was just a keen observer and noticed most things normal people wouldn't pick up on. She had even liked to call Castiel her own little Sherlock Holmes from time to time, which used to cause Castiel's heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of pride and a feeling of utterly devotion to her.

But he doesn't want to think about his mother right now. Honestly, he doesn't think he ever wants to anymore considering how his chest always feel like it had a ton of bricks resting on top whenever he does.

Looking back, he now agrees with his mother's comparison of him to the famous literary detective. He's often informed how odd he is (though most choose to say a more vulgar word than that) and everyone knows how odd Holmes is. The only difference between them was that Sherlock needed his assistant John Watson to operate functionally while Castiel doesn't have anyone. Sorry, correction; he doesn't _need_ anyone to operate like a regular social human being.

Or at least that's what he tells himself late at night when he has a million thoughts buzzing around in his brain but not a single soul to share them with.

Castiel doesn't know how many minutes pass by before the other boy finally relents and lifts his gaze upward to rest on the morning sky. Castiel watches curiously as the boy lets out a long sigh and runs a hand through his perfectly trimmed hair, as if he's trying to decide something, before his gaze eventually finds Castiel once again and he sticks his hand out, "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. I just moved here a couple hours ago."

Castiel stares at his outstretched hand for a moment until his eyes flicker back to Dean, "And what do you wish for me to do with that piece of information?"

Dean rolls his eyes as his arm falls back to his side, "I dunno. Maybe you could stop being a dick and actually put a little effort into this awkward conversation."

"I am putting up effort," He argues as he shrugs, "I mean, I could simply just stand here silently as you have a one-sided conversation with me, but I choose not to. Instead, I think of logical replies to answer your insanely off topic questions and statements. If that isn't effort, I don't know what else you wish for me to say."

Dean stares at him strangely for a few moments until Castiel finally sighs out, "What now?"

"Sorry, I'm just trying to imagine you with an actual personality."

"As much as I adore being called male genitalia and a robot," Castiel says in a flat tone, "I should get going soon so I can escape this encounter with my positive view on humanity still intact." He turns to walk away but a sudden hand on his shoulder stops him from moving.

"Oh come on, R2-D2, don't be like that," He can practically hear the smirk in Dean's teasing voice, "Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

"If you were truly apologetic, you wouldn't have said it in the first place," Castiel points out tiredly as he turns back around to face him, "And by the sound of your tone and the expression on your face, I doubt the true sincerity even more." He pauses before something finally occurs to him, "And what is a 'R2-D2' anyway?"

The amusement leaves Dean's face as he stares at Castiel blankly, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Dean, I believe I've already went over this," Castiel sighs out impatiently, not liking how he didn't even answer his question, "I don't joke around for it is highly immature and inappropriate for someone at my intellectual level to do. Now please tell me what you were referring to me as or I will simply just assume the worse."

"Dude, it's from Star Wars," He tells him slowly, watching Castiel's expression closely just to make sure he was serious, "You know, the movie."

"A film about constellations going to war with each other," Castiel says with mild interest before shrugging, "Sounds fairly entertaining."

Dean gazes at him like he has magically sprouted another head as he asks incredulously, "You're not human, are you?"

"According to most people around this area, no." Castiel informs him before adding, "Though if those Neanderthals are perfect examples of what average human beings are, then I wouldn't even want to be apart of their idiotic species anyway."

Dean cracks a smile and breathes out a light chuckle before cocking an eyebrow, "Wow, you really are something, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am made up of matter that takes up space in this dimension," He confirms as he nods his head, "Therefore, I am 'something.' But it's not much of an accomplishment considering everything around us is the exact same only with different mass quantities."

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatedly, "Speak English for once, okay?"

Castiel rolls his eyes as well and has half a mind to point out that he is, in fact, speaking the same language as he is but just about a topic he doesn't know much about and words that he doesn't understand, but thinks better of it and holds his tongue. This conversation between them has reached its max and it's about time that Castiel makes his leave.

"Dean, it's been a pleasure conversing with you but it's time for me to depart." He informs him as he begins to walk away, "Welcome to Heaven Metropolis, by the way. I hope you'll enjoy it much more than I do."

"Wait, aren't you at least gonna tell me your name?" Dean calls after him, causing Castiel to stop dead in his tracks and turn back around to face him.

He furrows his brow and stares at Dean in confusion, "Why on earth would you expect me to do that?"

Dean rolls his eyes as he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and says with a heavy dose of sarcasm, "Oh I don't know. Maybe because it's kinda customary for people to introduce themselves when they meet someone for the first time."

"But I intend for neither of us to ever see each other again," Castiel explains slowly, though he's not for sure why he should since it's fairly obvious that the two won't even breathe the same air after Dean gets to school and rockets to the top of the in-crowd (which Castiel is positive he will considering Dean's "dazzling" personality and charm), "Telling you my name is simply a waste of oxygen."

"I'm sure a tree can work a little extra harder for you to tell me your name." Dean points out, making Castiel roll his eyes and sigh tiredly.

"Goodbye, Dean Winchester." He repeats as he starts walking away again and doesn't stop until he hears Dean shout after him.

"Fine, whatever! I don't care! I'll see you around later then…Trench Coat!"

Castiel throws a glance over his shoulder at him and arches an unimpressed eyebrow, "How original. And here I was questioning your intelligence and creativity."

And before Dean can even reply (which Castiel is sure he was going to since he can already tell that the boy just loves getting the last word), Castiel rounds the street corner and disappears out of Dean line of vision and hopefully out of his mind as well.

But little does Castiel know that he has created a burning curiosity inside the boy's mind and when Dean Winchester wants something, he won't quit until it becomes his. And at first, that was the last thing Castiel wants. Though in a matter of six weeks of knowing Dean, that's the one thing Castiel wants more than anything else in the entire world: to be Dean's and Dean's only.

It's funny how time and a certain mischievous asshole changes people.

* * *

"Hello, Castiel," The sales clerk, Kate Milligan, greets warmly as he lays his bottle of Sprite on her counter to purchase, "You're here a little later than usual."

Castiel shrugs, "I ran into someone on the way over here." _Or more like someone ran into ME on the way over here, _Castiel silently corrects himself inside his head but doesn't dare elaborate aloud to Kate any further.

Kate smiles kindly at him before focusing back onto the cash register as she prints his receipt and tells him the price, "That'll be a dollar."

Castiel nods and extracts a dollar bill from his coat pocket before handing it over to Kate, who accepts it easily and slides him the receipt in exchange.

Unlike most people in his desolated small town, Castiel actually likes Kate Milligan and her seven year old son, Adam, as well. They moved here six years ago from some town in Minnesota after Kate lost her nursing job and has ended up having to work twelve hours a day in this crummy convenience store just to be able to pay the bills and keep her wild son alive and cared for. There isn't much said about Adam's father but Castiel gathers he's just not in the picture anymore. Rumors that have been floating around says she had an affair with one of her patient and the father doesn't even know Kate got pregnant afterwards since he had already left town before she could even tell him, but none of that has ever been confirmed. And it's not like Kate will ever breathe a word about it to anyone either.

Kate opens her mouth to tell him to have a good day like she always does when something on the television captures her attention. Castiel turns his head and follows her gaze over to the screen only to find the morning news on.

"Tragedy strikes yet again in our poor town of Heaven when another one of our citizens, Darren Jameson aged at the young age of twenty-three, dies mysteriously at exactly seven o'clock this morning." The anchorman informs his audience with a sullen expression, "Though the results of the autopsy hasn't been released publicly yet, our sources claim that Mr. Jameson, like our other previous victims, has severe burns coating his throat as well as his internal organs. His neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, witnessed the entire scene and has informed us that Mr. Jameson hasn't been near any fire recently and appeared just fine when he spoke to them just minutes after he internally combusted into flames.

"One second the young man was waving goodbye to the couple on the way to his car and the next, a fire had started in his stomach and burned his insides to ash piece by piece. Our prayers are with the Jameson family that lost a remarkable young man and hopefully we'll get to the bottom of this mysterious new disease that's been running rampant in our local community—" The television switches to black before the anchorman can finish his sentence and it isn't until Castiel turns and sees Ms. Milligan holding the remote control does he realize that she must have turned it off.

"That's the fourth one in six months," Kate says to him as if Castiel could forget, "Hey, wasn't Darren your brother's best friend?"

"Lucifer's, yes." Castiel confirms and nods, knowing Lucifer will be even worse to deal with today once he hears the news that his partner in crime has been burnt to the ground.

Kate tilts her head sympathetically and lays her hand over Castiel's, "Well, tell him I'm sorry for his loss, okay?"

"I will." Castiel promises even though he knows he won't.

He tries to speak to Lucifer as little as possible now a days and with good reason considering that the older he seems to get, the hasher Lucifer's "innocent pranks" seem to get. At least Michael only hurts him with words while Lucifer seems to think actions speak even louder.

"They should really send someone out here," Kate says mostly to herself as she busies herself by counting the money in the register, "Lord knows how long it'll be before this virus spreads all throughout America."

Castiel nods in agreement before looking over to the wall clock, "Excuse me, Kate, but I must get going. I'll see you next week, yes?"

"Sounds like a date." Kate agrees with a smile as Castiel turns to leave the store, "Have a wonderful day, Castiel! Take good care of yourself!"

He doesn't hear her last statements since he's so focused on exiting the building and heading straight towards the woods where he's able to do things he isn't allowed to do around anyone else. For you see, Castiel isn't a normal boy. No, he's much more than that.

* * *

In the safety of the thick burrows of trees and the soothing sound of trickling water in the shape of a pond at his left, Castiel closes his eyes and leans his head back until he rests against the hard trunk of a sturdy oak tree.

The soft rustle of leaves prove comforting to him and it isn't until he opens his eyes does he realize he's now floating a few feet above the ground with a circle of dead leaves swirling around him. Sometimes he performs his ability by accident while other times he can't even get a leaf to rise just an inch off the ground without immense concentration. It's only times when he's truly zen can he perfect the art of moving things by just the simple assistance of air that cater to his every whim.

He used to practice this skill with his mother when he was a child. She was good at making things move around with just a simple thought and a flick of her wrist. He remember watching her in awe as she did those things like fling an entire tree branch across the forest using only the wind and her odd ability to control it.

Maybe that was why Castiel was always her favorite; maybe it's just because he's the only one out of all his brothers that seems to have inherited her strange gift. Maybe it wasn't because of his personality that drew her to him but instead how much he reminded her much of herself. They did look very alike actually; same delicate facial structure, same petite frame, same eye color….maybe that's why his family hates him so. It's because all Castiel does is remind Michael and Lucifer of the mother they lost and his father of the wife he loved but regretfully never paid much attention to until she was already gone.

He continued to practice his power even after his mother abandoned him, though now he's forced to do it alone either in the secluded forest or in his bedroom behind a closed and locked door. Castiel's just about mastered it now after years of mind-numbing determination and endless of practice. But the strength and limitations of his gift always depends on the weather of that day. If it's windy, his ability is strong enough to create a tornado. If it's just a hot stale afternoon, he's lucky if he can muster up a faint breeze. Castiel never questions why he's able to do the things he can; he doesn't like to think about it much either since all it does is make his head and heart ache.

As Castiel makes the wind gently put him down and he continues to swirl a single leaf around with the delicate breeze of the wind acting at his command, he finds himself thinking back to the boy he had met earlier today. Dean was his name, Castiel silently reminds himself, Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester that has moved to his town out of the blue one day when not a single visitor has entered Heaven in over five years. Dean Winchester that plays his blaring music so loud that the entire side of town can hear it. Dean Winchester who actually had the audacity to try to run him over and then blame him for it. Dean Winchester who insulted him and apologized when he made it clear he was anything _but_ sorry. Dean Winchester who constantly stared at him like Castiel was a freaking alien just because he doesn't find him to be as funny and charming as everyone else supposedly does. Dean Winchester who actually wanted to know his name when Castiel had made it clear that he just wanted to be left alone in the shadows where he's safe and comfortable. Dean Winchester that strangely reminds him of his mother when Castiel simply just wants to forget he ever had a heart that his mother ripped out just because _she _couldn't take it anymore while he's the one that's been forced to deal with the cruel unforgiving world for the last eleven years of his life after she walked out on him.

Castiel's hands both clench into tight fists until he begins feeling an odd source of warmth close to his face. He snaps out of his moment of pure rage and sees that the leaf that he was playing with has burst into flames.

He lets go of his anger instantly and scrambles away from the burning leaf before watching in horror as it suddenly crumbles into black ash and reigns to the ground like raining darkness. His breathing quickens as he desperately tries to convince himself that he isn't the one who had done that.

But as you know, Castiel James Shurley isn't a fool and knows that he has yet another reason to hate the infuriating and arrogant Dean Winchester.

* * *

**Author's Note: Yea, not the first meeting you expected, right? I'm actually trying to make this Destiel story the complete opposite of my first one. Like, doing hate-at-first sight, the story from Castiel's pov instead of Dean's, Dean interested in Castiel first instead of the other way around, throwing in some supernatural instead of boring ole realistic fiction...I'm even attempting (the key word is attempting) to write this in present tense instead of past like I normally do (which is proving a lot more difficult than I had anticipated). And oooooh, any guesses to what Castiel might be? The answer may surprise you actually.**

**But anyway, next chapter will have Sam and even other familiar characters in there as well. Remember, a review to me is like a hot apple pie to Dean so please let me know what you think! I have this terrible habit of only being able to pick out the negative things in my writing instead of the positive things so encouraging words (or even advice to help make my writing better) would really mean a lot.**


	3. What The Hell Is A Castiel?

_Castiel inhales deeply, filling his lungs with the smoky ash that clouds the once clean and fresh air. Pure adrenaline and the unforgiving wind is roaring in his ears and his flaming hands are starting to lick up and smolder his clothes, but all seems distant to him as he glares straight ahead at the dark figure in front of him. _

_He isn't able to see the figure's face but it seems like Castiel knew who it is, though the identity he can't even pinpoint. All he knows is the burning emotion of utter hatred as he stares at them._

"_You're a monster, you know that?" Castiel declares through clenched teeth, feeling the anger and flames radiate off him as he speaks, "Killing all those innocent people like that. How do you even sleep at night?"_

"_Quite swimmingly actually." The figure replies cheerfully and the voice sounds so vaguely familiar that the name is just on the tip of his tongue, but every time Castiel is about to remember who it is, his mind draws an instant blank._

_Castiel abandons his thoughts and takes a step towards the figure, "Where is he?"_

_The figure falls into mocking laughter at his question, "Who? That little boyfriend of yours?" It pauses for a moment to control its laughter but once it speaks again, Castiel can practically hear the smirk in its voice, "Sweetheart, he played you like a freaking violin. He pursued you, groomed you, made you feel special only to use you all up and then toss you away with all his other trash. He doesn't love you. The boy isn't capable of such strong emotion. He's too much of a coward."_

_The ball of flames in Castiel's hands grows as he takes another step forward, growling out sternly, "He is the bravest, most righteous man I've ever had the courtesy to meet. Sure, he makes a few bad decisions every now and then, and sometimes he makes me want to wring his neck for everything he's put me through, but if I ever had to do this whole thing all over again, I'd still choose him. I will always choose him."_

"_Your dedication to the filthy human is almost as admirable as it is stupid." Suddenly, there were two balls of actual blue flames surrounded by the figure as it laughs coldly, "Prepare to die, Little Boy. Maybe you'll see Mommy Dearest on the way straight to hell."_

Castiel gasps as he abruptly sits up in bed, chest heaving hard and forehead crinkled with sweat. It's so cold in his room, Castiel can faintly see his breath every time he exhales, even though his own body feels like it's burning two hundred degrees under his thin white blanket he only has to cover himself.

_It was just a dream, just a dream, just a stupid, irrational, and vacuous hallucination, _Castiel repeats to himself over and over again as he flings the sheets off him and heads straight toward the bathroom to take cool and refreshing shower.

Under the cold rush of the crisp water, Castiel tries to wash away the bad feeling he has at the pit of his stomach along with the stench of dried sweat, but even after thirty minutes of standing completely still as the water washes over him, the strange suspicion of something sinister still lurks deep inside him.

"I guess it's just going to be one of those days." Castiel mumbles to himself and knots the blue tie of his usual hammy-down suit as he walks down the stairs. He should have known better to multitask because as soon as he exits the staircase and passes his brother on his way to the kitchen, Lucifer sticks his foot out in front of him, causing Castiel to trip and face-plant onto the wooden floor that he hits so hard, it feels as though the impact vibrates his bones.

"Better watch where you're going, Little Brother," Lucifer says innocently with a devilish grin as he looms over him, "There are a lot of dickheads are here who'll do just anything to make your day the absolute worse."

"Why are you speaking about yourself in third person?" The smart-ass words flies out of Castiel's mouth before he can even think to keep his comments to himself. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, of course; that's just suicide. The phrase was supposed to stay at the tip of his tongue where it belongs, but as you can already tell, Castiel's having a rough time today and he's not in the mood yet to put a filter in his mouth.

He shuts his mouth and braces himself for the assault he knows is coming (you can never smart-off to someone like Lucifer and ever get away with it. The only person that gets the huge luxury is Michael, but that's typical since the two have been inseparable since they were little kids), but after waiting and waiting and waiting…

It never comes.

Castiel dares to take a quick glance upward only to find Lucifer nowhere in sight. _Strange, _Castiel thinks to himself as he slowly rises to his feet, _very strange indeed. _

But of course, Castiel's learned to never look a gifted horse in the mouth and hurries to get his books from the kitchen table before walking straight towards the front door, hoping he can get out of here soon before he's forced to endure anymore abuse from his darling older brother. Though just as his hand brushes against the doorknob, he sees Lucifer out of the corner of his eye heading upstairs with a sandwich in his hands.

He turns his head and looks blatantly at his brother, wanting to say something to him but fearing what the response may be. It's only been two days since Lucifer's best friend Darren Jameson caught the fire fever (or that's just what the locals have been calling lately) and he's been acting rather odd. Not angry, not depressed, not guilty, just…odd. Like there's something off about him and Castiel just can't put his finger on it.

Lucifer, finally realizing that his brother's eyes are on him, turns his heated glare on Castiel, "What do you want now, Graceful? Am I really that hard to look away from?"

"I-I'm sorry, Lucifer," Castiel stammers out in a soft voice, "About Darren, I mean."

He raises a blonde eyebrow, "Why the hell are you sorry?"

"Well, he was your favorite companion," Castiel says dumbly, not sure how to answer his peculiar question, "I know it must be hard to cope with his sudden departure."

"Not really," Lucifer says with a shrug as he takes a big bite out of his sandwich, "He was kind of a dick, anyway." Castiel's face screws up in confusion but before he can even think to respond, Lucifer has already went up the stairs and disappeared into his bedroom, signaling that their conversation was finally over.

"How did I become the sanest one in my family?" Castiel asks no one particularly as he opens the front door and begins walking to school, the knot of absolute dread becoming tighter and tighter with each reluctant step.

Yes, it's just going to be one of those days.

* * *

"…And then I reach out to catch the ball but Janna doesn't even bother to try to pass it into my hands, which I'm guessing is because her boyfriend Kyle dumped her and then asked me out the next day, and it hits me square in the face! And—"

"Anna, Darling," Gabriel says soothingly as he lays his hand on top of hers, "Remember that you're a human being, okay? You need to take a breath every once in awhile."

Anna Milton mockingly glares at him and flicks a cap-eraser at him, making Gabriel fling himself out of his chair and onto the floor acting as if he had just been shot. Castiel grimaces disapprovingly but just keeps his gaze locked on his book, hoping the rest of the students in their classroom will go back to being their idiotic selves and stop staring at the three like they just stepped out of a toxic waste dump.

"Cassie, you know that if you always keep that frown on your face, it'll stay frozen like that forever." Gabe tells him brightly as he hops up from the floor and slid back into his desk right beside Castiel.

Anna snorts, "Gabriel, I think that already happened ages ago."

"When something occurs that deserves a positive facial expression, _then _I'll smile." Castiel says boredly without even looking up at them, knowing how much a jerk (among other vulgar names) he sounded like and wondering why the two even hang around him in the first place.

They aren't even friends really; more like two people that seem hell-bent on befriending him the second Castiel, the school's known freak and social outcast, stepped foot in the high school building his freshmen year. He doesn't know what possessed them to do such a thing even to this day; all he knows is that one second he was sitting alone at a deserted lunch table peacefully reading the classic "Oliver Twist" and the next, a redheaded girl and a severely short boy sitting at his table greeting him cheerfully like the they've all been best friends their whole lives.

He found them immensely bothersome at first, but after a whole year of making it painfully clear that he'd prefer to be alone without their annoying presence, they were still there and Castiel realized that's where they'll always be, no matter his many protests. He now categorizes them as friendly acquaintances, which doesn't seem like much consider the three years they've been together but it's like a freaking milestone in Castiel's world.

Anna smiles fondly at him, a somewhat nurturing smile a person would have when they were looking at their little naïve brother, and opens her mouth to reply when the bell rings, signaling that the school day has now officially began and Castiel can't be any more ready to already leave. _Eight more hours, _Castiel silently chants inside his head as if that could ease his itching anticipation to be anywhere but here, _just eight more hours and you'll be okay._

He doesn't believe himself in the slightest but chooses not to dwell on it as he turns his attention back to his book. He's so focused on finally finishing "The Catcher in the Rye" (his fifth time reading it), he almost doesn't hear his teacher's next fatal words.

"Class, this is our new student, Dean Winchester."

Castiel isn't the type of guy that you can get the drop on easily. He can practically hear anyone coming from a mile away; possibly farther if there's less distracting noises around him. Even his brothers that are completely aware of his perfect hearing can't get the drop on him without Castiel already knowing they're coming.

But Mr. Joshua's last few words seem to snap him instantly out of Holden Caulfield's world and back into his horrible, heart-slicing reality. Without even conscious of his movements, Castiel's hands jerk to under his desk as he feels his fingertips, searching for any heat that can possibly spark from his hands. But his fingers were cold with not even a trace of warmth radiating off them.

After that day in the forest, Castiel had completely convinced himself that it never happened. He told himself that it was just a silly daydream and that the infamous "Dean Winchester" was just a mere figment of his imagination. And after days of telling himself so, Castiel had believed all of it—meeting Dean and catching that stupid leaf on fire was just another one of his vivid nightmares that his mind had cooked up for him.

But Dean's real and Castiel can already feel the bile rising in his throat. He keeps his gaze down to the floor and prays that he probably had just heard wrong.

"So, is there anything you would like to tell us about yourself?" He hears Mr. Joshua ask curiously.

"Well, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach…and frisky women." Castiel stills and makes himself look up as the rest of his classmates snick and Mr. Joshua looks at the new student with disdain. But all seems incredibly distant once Castiel's eyes find Dean Winchester.

He looks as handsome as Castiel remembers him to be, but that still doesn't stop Castiel from feeling as if he's drenched completely in freezing rain that chills him to the bone. He has on the same leather jacket from their first meeting but this time, he has on a newer pair of blue jeans (not new by any standards, but newer than the other ratty ones he had on previously) and an old shirt with the word "Metallica" on it, whatever that means.

Castiel can feel his heart rate climbing as Dean Winchester moves closer to the class to find an empty desk to sit in. Horribly enough, the only vacant seat is far in the back and the only way to get to it is by passing right by him.

Yea, the term "freaking out" doesn't even cover it.

But despite his mental breakdown, Castiel manages to keep his face blank like always and just sink lower into his chair, careful to angle his face away from Dean's view and actually having the nerve to hope that the Winchester boy is blind.

As the noise of Dean's stupid big boots echoes louder on the tiled floor, Castiel's grip on his pencil tightens so much that Anna looks at him strangely and mouths, "You okay?" He doesn't even try to answer her because out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Dean is right next to his desk now.

_Please be as stupid as you look, please be as stupid as you look, please…_

And as if a light shines down on him and a choir of angels start belting out a Hallelujah hymn, the world goes back to normal speed as Dean keeps walking without even a sideways glance at him. Castiel lets out a triumphant sigh of relief and releases his deathly grip on his pencil before he does something idiotic like break it in half just because a guy passed by him. _But it wasn't just a guy, _Castiel tries to justify his extreme actions to himself, _it's someone that can't be trusted._

But that's the understatement of the century because even though Castiel has only spoken to him once, he knows that when a mysterious boy pops up in a monotonous and insignificant town like this one, you better watch out for yourself because a boy like that is sure enough to raise some hell while he's here.

Though to Castiel, it's impossible to raise a little hell in a city like this because in his mind, "Heaven" is already hell on earth.

* * *

Unlike most students (if you can call these sleeping potheads that smell like a gas-station restroom students) here, Castiel actually doesn't mind learning a thing or two during his high school career, though that's only accomplished when the teachers actually know what they're talking about. But Mr. Joshua, a modest and highly educated man that has saved Castiel from bullies too many times to count this year alone, definitely knows his World History more than most people know the back of their hand. Castiel has to say his mood dampens when he hears the bell ring.

Not wasting any time Zachariah and his regular goonies pay him a visit before second period, Castiel scoops his books up and stands out of his chair, ready to start walking to the door when someone slams into his back so hard, the force almost makes his stuff fall right of his hands. More displeasure washes through him but just as he's about to sigh and act like it never happened, he hears _his _voice.

"Sorry, Man. I thought you'd be out of here fast like everyone else." A decent excuse considering that the room is just about empty only seconds after the bell had rang, but Castiel still finds himself becoming slightly annoyed.

He's sure Dean hadn't realized it was him yet and while he knows he should just brush it off and forget it even occurred, something in him makes Castiel spin around and meet Dean's gaze straight on.

Castiel cocks his head to the side and remarks coolly, "I see your recklessness doesn't stop at just your driving."

Dean furrows his brow in confusion and opens his mouth to say something, but it was like a sudden lightbulb appears above his head as his green eyes widen in realization, "Trench coat?"

"Most people refer to it as an overcoat," Castiel mumbles mostly to himself as he looks down at his warm jacket, "But I suppose your observation isn't totally off…" Wait, why was he talking to him again? Insulting and condescending is one thing, but having an actual conversation? Nope, not gonna happen. Without even finishing his previous sentence, Castiel turns back around and heads straight for the exit.

"Wait, what the hell, Man?" He hears Dean call after him only to be chided by Mr. Joshua for his language (and if the teacher hadn't, Castiel would've made it a point to do so, but that's still talking to him and he isn't sure why he keeps doing that).

"Do you not understand the word 'wait?'" Just as Castiel's about to pull the door open, he feels a calloused and rough hand grab his shoulder, causing Castiel to stiffen and turn abruptly around, anger bubbling in his usual clear and indifferent blue eyes. Everyone knows to never touch Castiel (he told them much in second grade when he shouted at the teacher when she innocently rested her hands onto his shoulders) and just the people that wish to do him harm are the only ones that lay their filthy hands on him. So saying he instantly goes into pilot-mode the second he feels the warmth of someone else behind him is a pretty accurate statement.

"_Do not_ _touch me, _Dean Winchester," Castiel says somewhat calmly (which takes a very big amount of effort) as he stares the boy down, "Mock me, bully me, and steal things from me all you want like everyone else does, but _never _touch me. Do you understand?"

"I just have one question for you, Blue Eyes," Dean says with a serious face and tilts his head so exaggeratedly to the side that Castiel can tell the boy's mocking him, "Do you always have that big stick up your ass, or is it only when you're talking to me?"

The anger fades from Castiel and is replaced with pure confusion as he stares at Dean for a long moment before informing him slowly, "I can assure you, Dean, there is not a stick nor any other object 'up my ass.' If that were the case, I would be in the hospital being prepped for surgery instead of being here getting pestered by you."

Dean smiles and breathes a light chuckle, "Do you just pretend you're from the sixteenth century or have you really been under that rock of yours for that long?"

Castiel's frowned darkened as his eyes narrowed, "You're laughing at me."

"No, I'm laughing at your cluelessness," Dean corrects him with a smirk, "But if you keep on talking like freaking Thomas Edison, I'll start."

"I'm just impressed you know the name Thomas Edison," Castiel replies right off the bat without so much as a second thought, "Tell me what he's famous for and I'll be really shocked."

"Shut up," Dean says coldly before adding, "He's the guy who invented lightning, right?"

Castiel rolls his eyes and sighs, "Oh yes, he's the humanized American version of Thor."

"Hey, he's in the Avengers!" Dean exclaims almost proudly like he's actually boasting that he actually knows what Castiel is talking about.

Castiel gives him a strange look, "No, he's in Norse mythology."

Dean returns the questioning glance and opens his mouth to reply when the classroom door slams open, revealing Gabriel standing in the doorway with an impatient look on his face, "I've been standing here for, like, a hundred years and I've had to pee for fifty of them." He looks to Castiel, "Come on, I need you to hold my books while I take a piss."

"Hey, I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Dean mocks with a devilish grin at Castiel, "Holding their stuff while they take a shit? I have to say, Trench Coat, I didn't peg you as the romantic type."

Gabe glances at Dean for a second before returning his gaze back to Castiel and arching an eyebrow, "Who's the asshole?"

"Doesn't matter since we're never speaking to him again." Castiel answers simply as he exits the room and enters the hallway, dragging Gabriel with him as he goes.

"Don't let me get in the way of your epic love affair, Casanova!" Dean shouts after them with a shit-eating grin, "Just make sure not to get pregnant! I would hate for there to have to be a shotgun wedding!"

"Okay, so he's not an asshole," Gabriel says lowly to him, "He's a dick."

"You're not entirely wrong at that statement." Castiel mutters in response, only throwing one glance back at the Winchester boy, who's waving cheekily at him, before focusing his attention back to Gabriel, though he'd be lying if he says that Dean leaves his thoughts that quickly.

* * *

"So seriously, who the hell was that?" Gabriel asks as he empties his bladder into the urinal.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel answers tiredly, wanting to be done saying the retched name, "The new kid, remember? He was introduced to the whole class at the beginning of homeroom."

"Sorry, Cassie, I was too busy watching the back of my eyelids to actually pay attention in that class." Gabriel replies and zips up his zipper as he declares, "Done."

"Thank you for that wonderful announcement." Castiel says dryly as he gives Gabriel his books back and walks out of the restroom, Gabe following after him.

"Hey, just look on the brightside, Cassie. I mean, at least that Winchester dude is good for one thing," Gabriel says offhandedly, ignoring Castiel's comment, "This is the most you've talked in one day than you usually talk in a week."

"Well, I can't help that almost every word he says makes me want to correct his stupidity." Castiel tells him bristly, feeling strangely defensive by Gabe's statement, though if he were honest with himself, he would admit that his observation is correct.

"I think he just likes you," Gabriel declares as if that's the only thing that could make any sense, "I mean, I love you and all, but anybody that can talk to a robotic smartass like you for five minutes without wanting to take a swing at you has _got _to want in your pants."

Castiel rolls his eyes, "Oh please. The only reason he keeps speaking to me is just to entertain himself by mocking a perfectly rational and intelligent human being."

"Eh, maybe it's for the best then," Gabe tells him, shrugging, "He's not your type anyway."

"And what is my 'type,' dare I ask?" Castiel asks tiredly.

Gabriel shrugs again as he takes a lollipop out of his pocket, peels off the wrapper, and sticks in his mouth, "I dunno. You're tall, quiet, nerdy, and boring. I guess you need someone short, talkative, outgoing, and an absolute joy to be around." He pauses before his eyes light up in realization, "_Like me!_"

"No." Castiel says instantly without even having to think about it.

"Oh come on, we'd be cute together," Gabriel tells him grinning before he reached out and pinched Castiel's cheek, saying sweetly, "My little Cassie."

"I would rather you not touch me," Castiel says lightly (after all, it is only Gabriel) as he moves away from his grasp, "Thank you very much."

"You know you love it," Gabriel insists with a wink as he wiggles his fingers at him, "Magic hands, Cassie. Nobody can resist 'em."

"If that's true, then why don't you use them to pursue Anna?"

Gabriel tenses as he jerks his head around to stare at Castiel with wide eyes, "I-I don't like her like that. She's practically my sister."

Castiel rolls his eyes though he's not in the mood to point out how much of a terrible liar he is, "Whatever, ignore my comment then."

They walk to AP Biology in silence after that.

* * *

The school day's already halfway over and Castiel is thankful that he hasn't had any more classes with Dean yet. He only has three more periods and lunch left before he's finally released from this imprisoning facility that smells worse than a third-world country petting zoo.

It isn't until he's on his way to Physics does he finally see something worth his interest.

In the far back of a deserted hallway, there's a boy with a messy mop of brown hair pushed against the wall of lockers by the twelfth grader Alastair and two other of his minions surrounding him.

Now, usually Castiel would just spin on his heels and walk in the exact opposite direction, convincing himself that it was none of his concern and the poor naïve person probably needed to learn never to mess with Alastair ever again.

But just as he's about to turn around and act as if he hadn't seen anything, he sees a paperback copy of the book "Great Expectations" being ripped from the boy's hands and getting torn to shred by Alastair while the two other idiotic baboons laugh cruelly as if it's the funniest thing they've seen in awhile.

Suddenly, Castiel doesn't see the small brown haired freshmen but instead a younger version of himself being physically abused by the crowd of bullies, as if he didn't get enough of that from his brothers at home. But despite being scared to death on the inside, he sees himself putting on the same calm and brave expression that the young ninth grader has on right now, determined to show his tormentors that they don't frighten him.

A different feeling starts boiling in his chest and before he even knows what he's doing, Castiel finds himself walking calmly over to the group and saying in a clear and confident voice, "Leave the boy alone, Alastair."

Alastair, who has his arm winded back ready to punch the freshmen boy, stops just in time and looks to Castiel, "I'd suggest you make yourself scarce, Shurley, before I kick your ass, too."

"One last chance," Castiel says in a more deadlier tone as he takes a step forward, "Leave. Him. Alone."

"Looks like we got a knight in shining armor, don't we, Fellas?" Alastair says with a menacing grin as he lets go of the boy and turns to face Castiel, "What's up with you, Cassie? Ready to save the damsel in distress? I always had a feeling you swung that way." Alastair's arm swing at him as fast as a flash of lightning, but Castiel catches it easily and twists it behind his back before shoving the senior bully hard against the lockers.

Usually when he gets pushed or punched, Castiel always lets it happen without so much as a feeble protest, deciding that it would be better to be an intelligent pacifist than an illiterate aggressor. But not today; not when he isn't defending his own self, but an innocent boy that reminds too much of a younger version of himself.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Alastair chokes out in shock as he tries to wrestle out of Castiel's iron grip, "Get off me, Faggot!"

"I would refrain myself from using such foul language if I were you," Castiel says flatly as his gaze locks briefly with the stunned ninth grader, "We do have younger ears listening."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alastair's friends advancing toward him, so he lets go of their fearless leader and has his own fists sail into both of the two's stomachs, causing them to drop to their knees and let out a hiss of surprised pain (they're probably shocked that such a small dude could pack such a hard punch).

"Anyone else want to try to harm two better intellectuals?" Castiel asks with actual curiosity and internally smirks when he sees the three quickly shake their heads as they scramble to their feet.

"You're dead, Shurley!" Alastair hisses as he sulks away from them with his minions in tow, "Go make out with your little boyfriend now but the second you step off of school grounds, I'm gonna make you cough up your own blood!"

"I'll try to pencil it into my schedule but I'm making no promises since it's so last minute." Castiel calls after them as they round the corner and disappear out of his line of sight. Crap, what did he just do?

He's so caught up in the fact that today might be his last day on earth, Castiel almost forgets the ninth grader is even there until he finally speaks.

"Um…thanks, I guess." The freshmen says quietly, making Castiel turn around to look at him, "But I could've handled them by myself."

"Yes, I know," Castiel tells him with real earnest and shrugs, "But then you would have to stoop to their level and I can already tell you're far too intelligent to lower yourself that far." His eyes drift down to the destroyed novel on the ground and Castiel scoops it up and gives it back to him, "This is a good book, by the way. One of Dickens best actually."

"I was almost done with it too," The boy tells him sadly, disappointment dripping into his tone, "But I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

Castiel's heart squeezes and he can't stop the soft words that escape his mouth, "Look, there's this old antique shop on Main Street right beside the abandoned movie theatre. The owner, Metatron, owes me one for a favor I did a couple weeks ago for him. He has this whole big mountain of classic novels at the back of his shop and he'll give you any one of them free of charge. Just tell him I sent you."

The boy finally raises his gaze to meet him and smiles, "Thanks," He pauses for a moment before sticking out his hand, "I'm Sam."

Castiel hesitates for a moment before he reluctantly shakes it, "Castiel."

"That's an angel's name, isn't it?" Sam asks in a curious tone without even an ounce of mockery laced into it like Castiel gets most the time when he is forced to introduce himself.

"The angel's name is actually Cassiel," Castiel states before shrugging, "But I suppose my mother wasn't the greatest speller in the world."

Sam's smile widens, "I think it's pretty cool. A lot more interesting than _Samuel._"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it 'cool,'" Castiel tells him, shaking his head, "Now the term 'strange' is a much more accurate description. But cool? Not a chance."

"Well, I would rather have a strange name like Castiel than an old man's name like mine," Sam says as he crinkles his nose in disgust, "I mean, I was named after a grandfather I've never even seen before." He stops talking when his eyes lock on the wall clock, his smile then turning into a frown, "Crap, I'm gonna be late for chemistry. The teacher's gonna flip."

"Just say you asked him to go to the bathroom before the bell rang and he'll believe you," Castiel informs him with a shrug, "The poor man has Alzheimer's so bad, he won't even remember your name by the time class's over."

Sam snorts, "Good to know," He stays silent for a moment before saying gently, "I'm sorry for getting you in trouble with those jerks, you know. I mean, you really didn't have to help me out like that. I would've been fine on my own."

"I don't doubt that you would've been," Castiel assures him, "But if you would've handled it yourself, it would've only made a bigger target on your back for the rest of the year." He pauses before shrugging, "Besides, I'm used to their threats and cruel torment. It's already branded into my usual routine by now."

"Well, I appreciate anyway," Sam says with complete sincerity, "I mean, you could've just turned a blind eye like the other two people before you did, but you didn't."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Castiel begins plainly as he stuffs his hands into his trench coat pockets and starts walking away, "I'm no hero if that's what you're saying. I'm just an innocent bystander that actually has a few morals left in this selfish town."

"Well, you just saved those three assholes from getting beaten black and blue by my brother." Sam calls after him before Castiel turns a corner and vanishes from Sam's sight.

Castiel gets a twisted feeling deep inside his stomach and wonders if all brothers are supposed to look after and defend their younger siblings. Maybe it's only his family that's dysfunctional like that. Or maybe it's just Castiel that's the problem since it feels like everyone else would rather eat dirt than help him out when he's in need. Even his own mother doesn't care what happens to him.

"Self-pity is for the weak, Castiel." He mutters to himself as he walks to his next class, trying to think of a believable excuse to tell his teacher about his severe tardiness.

* * *

"So, were you ever gonna tell me about you getting your ass kicked by those three fucking assholes?" Dean asks after he sits down in the vacant seat beside his brother at the empty lunch table.

Sam freezes mid-chew at his sudden words until he finally forces the food down his throat and asks, "How do you know about that?"

"Word travels fast, Sammy," Dean says before adding sharply, "Now answer the question."

"No, I wasn't because it's none of your business, Dean," Sam replies in the same curt tone before he adds quietly with a smile, "Besides, nothing happened anyway. Castiel took care of it before they could even take a swing at me."

Dean furrows his brow at him, "What the hell is a Castiel?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "Castiel is a person, Dean. He's the guy that chased the three seniors away and told me where I can get another copy of my book." He takes a pause before adding, "Actually, I was hoping we could stop by there to get it today before going back to the motel."

"Depends. Tell me which one of these kids here is the ever heroic Castiel and then I'll think about swinging by there so you can get your nerd book."

"You only think it's a nerd book because it doesn't have any pictures in it." Sam points out irritably before raising his gaze to scan the room for a familiar looking tan overcoat.

Finally, in the far corner, Sam spots the blue eyed boy sitting alone at a deserted lunch table focusing solely on the book in front of him, completely oblivious to the outside world.

Sam finds his lips curling into a small smile as he points him out to Dean, "He's right there. In the trench coat." As his older brother carelessly follows Sam's gaze, he feels Dean tense up beside him the moment his green eyes lock onto the boy.

The coke can crinkles under Dean's now tight grasp as the wide eyed eighteen year old mumbles, "You've got to be kidding me."

Sam furrows his brow and opens his mouth to ask him what was wrong when Dean suddenly stands up and begins walking to Castiel. The only think that stops him is Sam's hand wadded in Dean's leather jacket, "Dean, don't go over there and embarrass me. Please, just sit back down and pretend that nothing happen, okay? I mean, I've already thanked him, like, a million times. He doesn't need you doing it, too."

"Did you tell him you were my brother?" Dean asks blatantly, tearing his eyes off Castiel to stare at the now confused Sam.

Sam shakes his head, "No, why would I?"

"Does he know your last name?" Dean presses on, looking as if the information was urgent.

"No, I just told him my first name," Sam tells him slowly, "Why? You know him?"

"Know him?" Dean scoffs as he pries Sam off of him and glances back to Castiel, "That's the guy I told you about that hates my guts." There's a beat of silence as Dean appears like he's trying to decode an impossible puzzle before he finally asks, "How the hell did he know that you're my brother?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "Believe it or not, Dean, the whole world doesn't revolve around you."

Dean shoots him a weird look and says like it's the most obvious thing in the whole universe, "Of course it does. Have you _seen _me?" He picks up one of his fries on his tray and stuffs it in his mouth before locking his gaze on Castiel and moving towards him, "Now if you'll excuse me, Sammy, I need to find out what the hell is with the kid's obsession with me."

As he watches his older brother go, Sam sighs and mutters to himself, "Are you sure it isn't the other way around?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you guys for this wonderful feedback (and remember, most if not all criticism is welcomed as long as you're not being cruel about it) and since I'm actually on a school break this week, I'll probably have another update up soon. I know that Dean sounds like a major asshole in this (which is how he acted in the "After School Special" episode but he turns out not to be much of a dick at the end, so I think that my depiction is fairly accurate) and Castiel sounds a lot like a robotic smart-ass (which is intentional in this story so I can show how Dean slowly breaks down his walls and makes him more human), but I promise they both will mellow out gradually during the later chapters once Dean shows his real self and Castiel allows himself to feel again. And remember, I always love follows/favorites/reviews so don't be shy!**


	4. Pie-moose And This-by

Today is starting to look up for Castiel Shurley. Sure, he had a rocky start this morning (and it all had to do with that infuriating green eyed nuisance) but after the rest of his day going perfectly smoothly, he thinks that maybe getting up this morning was not a total mistake.

When lunch comes around, Castiel doesn't even bother getting in line to eat the school's mediocre food and instead just moves directly to his usual table that's, like Castiel himself, is pushed up far to the corner and goes completely ignored by the rest of the student population. He sits down in his usual seat and opens up one of his old copies of "_To Kill A Mockingbird_" (he had already finished "_The Catcher in the Rye_" two periods ago), and begins reading, wondering if anyone else at this school would ever read such a thick book that doesn't have any illustration in it. _There was that one boy, _his mind reminds Castiel as his thoughts drift back to earlier in the hallway, _his name was Sam, wasn't it? I bet he would appreciate such fine literature, _Castiel thinks to himself and is almost saddened to think that he won't associate with him again any time soon. _Oh well, _he says to himself as he directs his attention back to his book, _it's not like I was going to befriend him anyway._

"'_Remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.' That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it…"_

"Dude, weren't you on that other book this morning?" A sudden voice behind him rips Castiel out of his own literary world and back into the disappointing reality.

"I would've finished earlier in Trigonometry if you would've stopped throwing Skittles at my head." Castiel replies boredly, not entirely paying attention to the actual voice since he just assumes it's Gabriel.

"Aw, have you forgotten about me already, Castiel?" The same voice says teasingly before Castiel sees a figure flop down in the chair beside him. Castiel rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something when he finally realizes who the person beside him is…and it isn't who he first thought either.

"You're not Gabriel," Castiel thinks aloud before he can stop the words from pouring out of his mouth, cocking his head to the side as he stares at him, "What are you doing here, Dean?"

"Well, you see, no matter how many times I tell my dad a high school education is for pussies," Dean answers wryly with a lopsided grin, "He still forces me to attend this stupid waste of time."

Castiel sighs, "Let me rephrase my question: What are you doing here_ next to me_?"

"What's with the hostility, Castiel?" Dean asks as he arches an eyebrow, "I thought we really hit it off in first period this morning." He rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to spew out a witty retort when something finally hits him.

"How do you know my name?"

Dean rolls his eyes as his teasing smile drops, "Oh come on, don't act dumb. I know you didn't just _happen _to come across my brother about to get clobbered in the hallway and then save his ass out of the goodness of your heart." He pauses before adding, "If you even have a heart, that is."

"What on earth are you talking about—" Castiel stops abruptly when his words finally sink in. _My brother about to get clobbered, _he hears the repeat on a loop inside his head as the puzzle pieces slowly come together.

"Sam is your brother," Castiel says with realization before furrowing his brow and looking questionably at Dean, "Sam is your brother?"

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes, "Wow, it's a good thing you're pretty."

Castiel brushes the compliment off since it's only disguised as an insult to his intelligence and asks, "But how could that be? I thought Sam was an intelligent human being!" He pauses for a moment to try and come up with any possible theories that could explain this, "Are you sure he has the same genetics as you?"

"You wound me," Dean says in mock hurt and Castiel can practically the smirk in his eyes, "And here I was just about to thank you for saving Sammy's face from getting even more jacked up than it already is."

"I don't need your thanks," Castiel informs him with a roll of his eyes, "I didn't do it for you. I did it for Sam." He pauses, "Actually, if I had known that preventing Samuel's tormenting would only result in more harassment from you, I wouldn't have even done it in the first place."

Dean frowns as his eyes narrow at him, "Dude, seriously, what is your problem with me?"

"I have several problems with you, Dean," Castiel says curtly, wondering why the boy won't just take the (not so subtle) hint to leave him be, "But the major one is the fact that you simply won't leave me alone."

"You see, there's this awesome thing called being polite," Dean tells him with a heavy dose of what Castiel identifies as sarcasm, "You might wanna try it some time."

"I find politeness to be both deceitful and superficial," He admits honestly with a shrug, "I mean, if you obviously dislike someone, why on earth would you try to appear otherwise just for the sake of tricking them into believing you actually tolerate their presence? It's basically lying and society seems to think it's perfectly acceptable since you're being 'nice,'" Castiel pauses before adding, "I don't know about you, Dean, but I don't think promoting dishonestly is particularly amiable."

Dean's eyebrows shoot up as he stares at him for a long moment before eventually saying, "Wow, you really don't give a shit, do you?"

Castiel furrows his brow, "Of course not. Why would I want to give anyone my feces?"

Dean sighs exasperatedly and runs a hand through his hair in obvious frustration, "You know, it really shouldn't be this hard to have a conversation with someone." _Well, it apparently isn't that difficult considering that you're still here talking to me. _He manages to bite his tongue before those words could leave his mouth and instead decides to take the high road (since it's obvious that Dean won't any time soon).

"Well, to save you from any more tiring discontent, I'll just go read elsewhere." Castiel sighs out and stands to leave, but Dean already has his hand locked on his coat cuff before he can even take his first step.

"Look, all I came over here to do is find out why you helped my brother," Dean tells him bluntly, "I mean, you don't even like me. Hell, you _hate _me."

"I do not hate anyone, Dean," Castiel says tiredly, "I simply feel total indifference towards all mankind."

Dean rolls his eyes, "Gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better."

"I didn't say it to provide any false comforts to you about our relationship," Castiel tells him matter-of-factly, "Or more like our lack of one."

"Aw, you don't want to go steady with me?" Dean pouts, "Damn, now what am I gonna do with these two promise rings?"

"Can you speak seriously for one second instead of being so derisive?" Castiel snapped finally, instantly scolding himself for being so emotional soon after.

Dean smirks, "You know, most people find it charming."

"And that only proves how simple-minded our generation is."

Dean doesn't seem offended at all at the comment and instead slightly curious as he just arches an eyebrow, "Seriously, what the hell did I do to you? Killed you in a past life or something?"

"I'm not a Buddhist," Castiel informs him breezily before reluctantly sitting back down in his chair (it's obvious that Dean isn't going to let him leave soon anyway), "I don't believe in past lives."

Dean cracks a devilish smile and opens his mouth to say something either contemptuous or suggestive, but Gabriel's cheery voice behind them cuts him off, "Aw, Anna, look at the two lovebirds," He says sweetly as he and Anna plop down at the table (with Anna sitting on the other side of Castiel while Gabriel sits next to Dean—much to the Winchester's pleasure by the way that Dean's jaw locks and his hand on Castiel's coat disappears) before Gabe looks to Dean and wiggles his eyebrows, "Couldn't stay away from him, could you, Dean-o?"

Castiel notices that Dean doesn't let his true feelings of malice show anywhere else but his glaring green eyes as he matches Gabriel's cheerful smile, "Don't worry, Romeo, I'm not trying to steal your precious boyfriend away just yet."

"I'm not his boyfriend," Castiel blurts out suddenly, though he's not sure why since he usually just lets it slide when everyone else (Gabriel mostly) refers to him as that, "And in the famous Shakespeare play, Romeo is heterosexual and is in love with Juliet. If you want to suggest any homosexual love affairs, try referring to Ancient Greek writers like Herodotus, Plato, Xenophon, and Athenaeus."

"Dude, Pluto's gay?!"

Castiel sighs heavily, "No, not the dwarf planet, Dean. I'm talking about Plato, the ancient philosopher in Classical Greece that helped lay down the foundations of Western philosophy and science."

"Cassie, I think you need to talk slower and use shorter words to get through to him." Gabriel tells him, earning a brief death glare from Dean.

Anna kicks Gabriel from under the table before smiling at Dean and outstretching her hand, "It's wonderful to meet you, Dean. I'm Anna and this oaf that keeps bothering you is Gabriel."

Dean's eyes roam around Anna's body (which results in Gabriel glaring almost murderously at him) before he cracks a smile and takes her hand, giving it a warm squeeze as he says lowly, "The feeling's mutual, Sweetheart. And if you don't mind me asking, what the hell is a gorgeous woman like yourself sitting with Robby the Robot and Oompa Loompa over here."

"Because they're my friends," Anna replies plainly with a shrug, "If you don't like them, then leave."

Gabriel smirks triumphantly at him (though Castiel isn't sure what he had won over Anna's simple words) as Dean just sighs and stands up, "Touché, Anna. I think I've already worn out my welcome anyway." His gaze moves over to another table and Castiel notices that he's looking at his brother Sam, who's pointing at the empty seat beside him and mouthing angrily, "Get back here now! You're humiliating me!" which Dean responds to with his signature smirk and casual shrug.

"I take it that it wasn't you brother's idea for you to come over and speak with me." Castiel says aloud, tilting his head towards Sam.

Gabriel responds first as he follows their gazes and breaks into a wicked grin once he sees Sam before looking back to Dean, "I didn't know Sammy-boy was you baby bro."

Dean's gaze snaps to Gabe as his body tenses into a defensive stance, "How the hell do you know him?"

"He sits in front of me in French class," Gabriel responds with a shrug as he casts his gaze back to Dean's brother, humming to himself, "Oh, what I would _love _to do to him behind closed doors—"

Before anyone can even blink, Dean jerks Gabriel up in the air by the collar of his shirt and just about growls, "You stay the fuck away from my brother, Pervert, or else." The tables around them are starting to look over at them as the scene takes place and Castiel's tempted to just slip away from the table while everyone's distracted.

Gabriel arches an eyebrow as his smile grows, "Protective much?"

"If you so much as touch a hair on my brother's head I'll rip your heart out and display it in the school's trophy case," Dean tells him flatly as his grip on Gabe's shirt tightens, "And trust me, you'll wish I had if my dad ever finds out that you're saying those things about his youngest son." And with that threat looming in the air, Dean throws Gabriel back down on his chair and turns to leave, but not before looking over his shoulder and saying coolly, "And his name is Sam. Only I get to call him anything different."

"Well, shit," Gabriel whispers to Castiel and Anna once Dean walks back to his table and out of earshot, "Who knew the pretty boy could care about anything other than his hair."

"I think he's sweet," Anna says with a smile as she watches Dean lean down to Sam and whisper something lowly in his ear that makes the ninth grader's ears turn bright red, "And hot. Can't forget about hot."

Gabriel makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat and mutters something under his breath, but Castiel isn't paying attention to either one of them as his gaze subconsciously wanders over to Dean. He watches the eldest Winchester brother take a huge drink of his coke before his gaze locks with Castiel. Aware that the blue eyed boy is watching him now, Dean sits the can down and licks his lips slowly before he sends a playfully wink straight at Castiel.

He feels a slight burning feeling in his stomach and before he can even think of a better solution, Castiel abruptly stands up out of his chair and stalks out of the cafeteria, making sure to cast Dean a dark glare as he opens the door and disappears into the hall. Anna, the only one that saw the secret scene take place, smiles goofily as she looks to Gabriel, who appears to be sulking as he picks at his untouched peas, "They are so getting together."

"Who?" Gabriel asks as he finally raises his gaze to meet hers.

"Castiel and that Dean guy." Anna tells him, causing Gabriel to snort.

"Yea, and me and Sam-I-Am are going to elope at sunrise before hopping on his brother's magical unicorn to go spend our honeymoon on Rainbow Candy Island. I don't think so, Anna Banana."

"Oh come on!" Anna exclaims, "I mean, that's all you've been saying since you saw the two together."

"I was kidding, Anna," Gabriel says with a roll of his eyes, "No way can that Leather-Jacket-Wearing-Douche over there worm his way into Cassie's heart, or whatever that kid has in that mechanical armor of his."

"Bet me then." Anna says suddenly with a smirk and a challenging tilt of the head.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow, "Bet you what?"

"I bet that Dean Winchester and Castiel Shurely will get together by the end of the semester."

"Anns, that's only six weeks away," Gabe reminds her, "And it took Cassie a whole flippin' year to stop treating us like nuisances. Why would Dean-o be any different?"

"Because, unlike how everyone else seems to think," Anna begins with a smile, "I know that deep down, Castiel is still a hormonal teenage boy. And what do teenage boys think of constantly?"

"Sex." He answers without even missing a beat.

"Exactly," She says and takes a sip of her water before continuing, "And seriously, who could ever resist an ass like Dean Winchester's?"

"I think he _is _an ass." Gabe mumbles, causing Anna to sigh and roll her eyes.

"Gabriel, you really need to get over this silly crush you have, okay?"

Gabriel stops dead cold and feels as though he's not even able to breathe anymore as he stutters out breathlessly, "My C-Crush?" _Oh shit, she knows. Dammit, Gabriel, you're such a dumbass. Now she's gonna hate you—_

"I know that Castiel is cute and all," Anna says gently, earning a confused look from Gabriel, "But we both know that he isn't interested. I'm sorry, but I think that Dean has a better shot with him than anyone else does; even you."

"You think I like Castiel?"

Anna sighs and rolls her eyes, "Obviously. I mean, who else?"

_You, for example._

"You caught me, Annie," Gabriel lies with a nervous smile, "I swear, I'll try to keep my own raging jealousies at bay from now on." He clears his throat as he rubs the back of his neck, "Now tell me more about this bet. What do I get when I win?"

"_If _you win, I'll enable your sugar addiction for a whole month," Gabriel beams at this statement but his excited smile soon morphs into complete horror as Anna continues, "But if I win, you have to go on a diet with me."

"Can I eat my own hand instead?" Gabriel pleads, "I mean, at least I probably have enough sugar coursing through my veins to actually make it a semi-decent meal."

"Those are the final terms, Gabe," Anna says sternly before crossing her arms over her chest and cocking an eyebrow, "Why? Scared you're gonna lose to a girl?"

"The only thing I'm scared of is Ben & Jerry going out of business," Gabriel declares before sticking out his hand, "You, Annabelle Noel Milton, have got yourself a bet."

"And you, Gabriel Loki Speight, better get ready to cut off junk food cold turkey the minute we see those two reluctant lovebirds holding hands." Anna replies as she shakes his hand. Gabriel smiles coyly at her and tries to keep his rapid heartbeat down as she touches his hand.

* * *

Today was starting to look up for Castiel Shurely; it's funny how fast that pleasant feeling of contentment came crumbling down all because he felt stupidly heroic enough and saved an innocent boy from getting beaten up. Now, he's in a dreadfully bad mood and he only has himself to blame for the cause of it…well, himself _and _Dean Winchester, that is.

He knew that the dark feeling he had this morning was a bad omen but he ignored it by convincing himself that superstitions are just illogical nonsense. Look how great that turned out for him. _I shouldn't have even went inside the cafeteria, _Castiel thinks glumly as he sits down at one of the many deserted tables in the school's library and opens his book back up, _I should've known he would be there waiting for me. _

Honestly, Dean's interest in him baffles Castiel as much as it does annoy him; why on earth would anyone have a fascination with him, of all people? He is—as Gabriel had said—boring, quiet, and nerdy (though he prefers the terms rational, unobtrusive, and intelligent). How could that ever be considered as anything other than an absolute bore?

Suddenly, Gabriel's next words plays like a loop in Castiel's mind, _"I guess you need someone short, talkative, outgoing, and an absolute joy to be around." _That doesn't describe Dean, does it? He isn't short by high school standards, but he _is _shorter than Castiel by half an inch or so. And he does seem talkative and outgoing judging by the way he chatted all throughout homeroom with students that he probably doesn't even remember their names. To Castiel, he's a burden when he's around but everyone else seems to enjoy his presence…

No, Dean Winchester is most certainly not his "type"; nobody is because, as he's tried to tell Gabriel and Anna many times before, he is perfectly alright with remaining alone for the rest of his life. No attachments, no risk of getting yourself let down and your heart broken, and Castiel can't think of anything else better than that. And even if he did have the insane idea that he needed a mate for companionship, it sure as hell wouldn't be Dean Winchester. It would be someone sensible, nice, understanding, doesn't wear clothes that smell like grease and makes Castiel gag, and knows not to test or push any of Castiel's boundaries. Though he just perfectly described Anna Milton, he's never felt any sexual attraction to her (though she is fairly beautiful considering all the boys that ask her out on a daily basis—much to Gabriel's disgruntlement) nor any other person he's ever known.

Okay, so what if his stomach does twist and a burning feel enters his chest whenever Dean's close to him? It's probably just out of annoyance and nothing more. And besides, even if he is sexually attracted to him (which he's not; this is purely hypothetically speaking), that doesn't mean he's going to jump into Dean's arms the second he sees him and profess his love for thee. Looks aren't everything; actually, they mean the least to Castiel (but that's mostly because he isn't much of a looker himself considering his huge un-blinking blue eyes, sickly pale skin, and gawky frame). The only thing that is truly beautiful to Castiel is the mind and Dean…well, he doesn't have one (that, or he just doesn't use it).

The bell ringing throughout the entire school that signals that lunch is over breaks into Castiel's thoughts and causes him to rise up from his seat and move out of the library, feeling irrationally angry at Dean for making Castiel think about him the entire rest of the time of lunch and not being able to find solace in his reading.

His next and last period of the day is English, which isn't so bad since the teacher Mr. Odin, like Mr. Joshua, actually knows what he's talking about. But just as he steps through the classroom door, his stomach drops at the smell of motor oil strikes his nostrils as he finds himself staring straight at a familiar looking figure dressed in a leather coat. _You have got to be kidding me, _Castiel internally screams in frustration and he's tempted to just spin on his heels and just walk right out of the room before Dean spots him, determining that detention would probably be worth it if it meant that he wouldn't have to deal with him _again_.

_Why is he in the only classes that I actually like, _Castiel demands woefully in his head as he just keeps his head tilted to the ground and moves to the seat farther away from him, _why does God want to ruin the only solaces I have in this vivid nightmare I'm forced to call my life? _Castiel takes a sideways glance over at Dean only to find him flirting with one of the most popular girl in school (go figure). He lets out a sigh of relief that he won't have to put up with his irritating attempts at conversation and decides to read for the remaining few minutes before the bell rings.

"What are you reading?" Says a quiet, almost shy voice that stops Castiel reading mid-sentence to look up. It's a younger boy, a sophomore by the looks of him, with short neatly made brown hair and pale blue eyes smiling friendly at him from the desk in front of his. Instead of responding, Castile simply closes his book and holds it up to him so he can read the title himself.

"Is it good?"

"It must be considering this is my third time reading it this year." Castiel replies almost rudely, but despite his sharp tone, the boy's smile never falters as he just chuckles.

"Yea, I would think so." He pauses, as if waiting for Castiel to say something first but once he finally realizes that isn't going to happen, he sticks his hand out, "My name's Samandriel. But most people call me Alfie. What's yours?"

"Castiel," He says reluctantly as he just stares at Samandriel's outstretched hand before the boy finally drops it back to his side, "It seems that parents are becoming much more creative with their name choices with each upcoming generation."

Samandriel laughs, "Yea, I guess that we were the ones that got the short end of the deal. Do you have any nicknames that people call you for short?"

"Yes, but none of which I particularly enjoy." Castiel tells him (he doesn't need yet another person calling him "Cassie"), causing the other boy to smile.

"I didn't like my own at first," He admits, "When I was in kindergarten, not even the teacher could say my name; much less any of the students. Finally, some genius shouted out, 'Hey, why don't we just call him something else like Alfie?' and unfortunately, it stuck."

"If you don't like it, why don't you just tell everyone to call you by your real name?" Castiel suggests, making the boy sigh and shake his head.

"Nah, it's too late now. Even my parents call me Alfie unless they're scolding me," Samandriel says, "Little piece of wisdom, whenever your parents start yelling your full name, you're practically doomed to a five hour lecture."

Castiel tilts his head, "Do you wish for me to refer to you by your real name perhaps?"

"It doesn't matter to me anymore," He tells him with a shrug, "Either one doesn't bother me."

Castiel nodded, "Then I shall call you Samandriel. Though I may be a bit bias considering my own bizarre name, I think I like your full name than 'Alfie.'" Samandriel grins and opens his mouth to reply but before he can get the words out, the bell rings. The boy smiles at him one last time before he finally turns back around in his seat, which extracts a silent exhale of relief from Castiel. He hates socializing; especially when it's with people he doesn't know.

Getting the strange feeling that eyes were on him, Castiel sweeps his gaze around the classroom only to find Dean staring at him with a slightly angry expression before he switches his focus to the teacher that's walking through the door. Castiel doesn't know why Dean would be upset at him but he manages to convince himself that he doesn't care.

"Hello, Students," Mr. Odin says with his usual friendly smile that most of the students return, "I'm glad to see that everyone is here today." His eyes scan the room to double-check himself and he seems startled once his gaze lands on Dean, one of his black eyebrows shooting up as he says, "I'm sorry, Sir, I don't remember you being in this class."

"I'm new," Dean replies with a cocky grin as he leans further back in his chair, his posture giving off the impression that he owns the place, "Dean Winchester. Didn't they tell you about me?"

Mr. Odin stares at him for a moment, as if picking through his brain for any recollection of the name, before he sighs in realization, "Ah, yes, the Winchester boys. They informed me of you and your brother's arrival this morning at the teacher's meeting," He smiles at him, "It's nice to meet you, Dean. My name is Ray, though as your teacher, I would prefer for you to call me Mr. Odin. Is that alright?"

"Doesn't matter to me, Teach." Dean answers as he shrugs.

Mr. Odin's eyes narrow slightly at the word "Teach," but doesn't let his smile waver as he asks just as friendly as before, "Would you like to say something about yourself to the whole class before we begin our lesson?"

"I'm good, Mr. Odis," Dean says cheerfully with a matching smile (though somehow he makes it seem as if he's mocking him), "I'll let you know if I change my mind."

"Mr. Odin," The teacher corrects lightly as he turns away from Dean to address the whole class, "Okay, Everybody, turn in your textbooks to page 347. We're going to do a review on the theatre chapter we've been working on…"

The next hour of class goes by quickly after that and as Mr. Odin goes on cheerfully about famous plays by Shakespeare and even a little Ancient Greek theatre, Castiel feels his ill-tempered mood lighten. But that doesn't last long since in the last remaining ten minutes, Mr. Odin informs them that he has a project to assign to them that is due at the end of the semester (and if he is seriously giving everyone six weeks to complete it, Castiel supposes that it must be big).

"I'm going to assign everyone a partner after explaining all this and I don't want to hear any complaints or requests to switch," Mr. Odin says firmly, causing everyone to groan, "Yes, yes, I know. I'm a horrible monster, aren't I? Sorry, but most of you guys work better when you're not paired up with your buddy." He then clears his throat and goes up to the whiteboard, writing down his words as he says, "You and your partner are going to receive an old play and then be expected to modernize it to fit it into this era. You will then be expected to perform a scene from it in front of the whole class at the end of the semester. I'll be grading you on effort, modernization, and creativity. Now, this is the most important grade for this class and if you don't want to fail and get stuck with me for another whole four months next year, I suggest you take this serious and don't wait until last minute to do it."

He looks down to his clipboard and begins listing off names, "Samandriel Angelo, you are going to be with Hale Canyon…" As he drones on with the list of partners, Castiel tries to assure himself that he probably won't be paired up with Dean.

_Seriously, there are at least thirty other people in here. There's no way I'm getting stuck with him. No, God isn't that cruel—_

"Castiel Shurely, you will be with the new boy, Dean Winchester." Correction: apparently, God _is _that cruel.

Castiel freezes completely for a fracture of a second before he finally forces his eyes to dart over to Dean, only to see the green eyed jerk just grin wickedly and wave at him. Great, they haven't even started working yet and Castiel can already feel himself about to vomit (a feeling he has often whenever he's around Dean).

When Mr. Odin finally gets done naming off the partners, he walks over to his desk and pulls out a ratty looking top hat with several shreds of paper, "Okay, Class, go over and meet up with your partner while I go around and let everyone randomly choose a play that they will research and perform."

Not even thirty seconds later, he sees Dean Winchester push a desk together with his and flop down in it, "Hey, Partner."

"I'm in hell," Castiel grumbles as he rubs his face in frustration, "That's the only possible explanation for this. I'm in hell and this is part of my eternal punishment."

"Aw, you always say the sweetest things when I'm around," Dean says with a wry smile as he bumps Castiel's shoulder with his own, "But c'mon, Cas, I'm not _that _bad."

"What did you call me?" He demands as he takes his hands off his face to look questionably at Dean.

He shrugs, "I called you Cas. Why? You like Cassie better?"

"I prefer neither if that's an option." Castiel tells him, making Dean only shake his head and shrug again.

"No offense, but _Castiel _is such a mouthful. Cas is much easier to say."

"My apologies. I didn't know that you were so lazy that you have to shorten my name so you won't overexert yourself."

Dean looks at him with a cocked eyebrow, "Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I called you lazy," Castiel correct with a roll of his eyes, "There's a difference. Saying you're fat is more of an inference."

"Oh fuck you," Dean says but his tone is light and jokingly as he pokes him in the ribs, "At least I'm not skin and bones like yourself, you freaking twig."

"Actually, you do have skin tissue and a skeletal system," Castiel informs him, "Every human does. Unless you're telling me that you're some sort of alien species, that is."

"Well, that does explain why I'm so ungodly attractive."

Castiel snorts, "You have your opinions, I have mine."

"Is your smart ass genetic or just a learned behavior?"

"Learned." Castiel answers honestly, but it was apparently a rhetorical question because Dean just stares at him strangely for a minute.

"Your turn, Boys." Mr. Odin says with a warm smile as he holds the hat out to them. Castiel sighs and reaches into it, feeling around the tiny slips of paper before he finally decides on one. Before Castiel can even read it, the teacher moves on to another group, rushing to get everyone a play before the bell rings.

"What'd we get?" Dean asks with an arched eyebrow. Slowly, Castiel unfolds the slip and gazes down at it. And on the piece of paper, to Castiel utter horror, were the two names: Pyramus and Thisbe.

He literally almost falls out of his chair.

Dean yanks the paper out of Castiel stiff unmoving hands and furrows his brow, "Pie-moose and This-by? The fuck?"

"Pyramus and Thisbe," Castiel correct softly, his mouth going dry, "It's a…love story."

Dean laughs and leers at him, "Well, this is gonna be fun."

"That's not the word I would choose." Castiel replies weakly as he forces himself to stop shaking and breathe again.

He was right; this _is _hell.

* * *

**Author's Note: Poor Cas, all he wanted to do this chapter was read his freaking book xD (there is also a quote from the book "To Kill A Mockingbird" at the very beginning and I most certainly did not make that up; the author of that book is credited for that). Welp, yet another chapter from me this time and hopefully you'll here more from me soon (though I want to update my other fic before I do this one again). The feedback from this is most greatly appreciated and more is extremely welcomed (that means follows/favorites/pms/reviews). This fic is amazingly fun to write and I'm having an even more good time writing it as the story progresses. And I would love to stay and chat more but alas, this chapter is finished and so am I.**

**Until next time!**


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